Splatterpunks
by Krin
Summary: Nny finds a cult dedicated to the eradication of all that is human. Or rather, they find him. R for gore and language.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own neither Nny nor the phrase I got it from a book called Splatterpunks II, one of the most disturbing things I've ever read. It wasn't the horrific violence that bothered me (ha!), but some other stuff. Thus, I wouldn't recommend that book. I set out to make this story a very uncomfortable read. So if you don't like it, I succeeded. I've gotten emails from people saying the in their schools have gotten sick reading this. I don't think it's that gory! Oh, and all the characters that aren't Jhonen's are mine.   
  
***  
  
Prologue  
  
Clairabelle pulled the metal gate down hard, slamming it against the concrete. The small bakery looked sad in the dark. She thought of the glistening racks of pastries and tiled floor within, and how different they were at night. With one last peer through the window and a reassuring pat on the padlock, she walked off.  
  
She hummed a bit, swishing her skirt in the humid air. A quarter moon rose above the skyscrapers, and she stepped over some abandoned newspapers. Clairabelle smiled, thinking about how great her day had been. They had been much busier than expected, and her tips were phenomenal.  
  
Taking a sharp left, she entered a canopied alleyway between her apartment building and a photo processing plant. The smell of chemicals and paper rose from the manholes.  
  
Oo, you're a pretty one, aren't you?  
  
She stopped dead, one hand gripping her leather purse. The low, velvet voice had floated in from an unknown direction. Clairabelle stared down the corridor. Blackness, until the light at the other end, near the door to her building. Carefully, she looked behind her, and also saw nothing.  
  
Mmm, a before picture. Smile!  
  
A blinding light seared her eyes from above. She raised her hands over her face. Blinking frantically, she felt movement behind her.  
  
Hold still, hold still. Two arms crossed around her chest, pinning her own arms to herself. Her assailant hugged her close, shoving his face into her hair. Mmm, beautiful. You smell delicious, he breathed.  
  
She screamed. Help! Aaaaaa! Marta, Marta! She hoped the night watch woman at her building could hear her.   
  
Shh... you'll spoil the mood, he snaked his right hand over her mouth, silencing her screams. She kicked backwards, but his legs were braced and spread. She missed her target. He laughed, a calm, low sound that went from his chest through her thin cotton shirt, and shivered down her spine. Now, relax a bit, he said soothingly, his voice almost hypnotic. You know there's nothing you can do at the moment.  
  
Tears streamed down her face. The alley was still veiled in sharp black and gray squares from the flash of the cheap camera. She dropped her purse, thus freeing a little space between her arm and his.  
  
Oh god, you're soft. He held her tighter, reveling in her warmth. A living creature, trapped. His creature. He ached inside, recognizing the movement of her thudding heart. They stood for a few minutes.  
  
Slowly, ever so slowly, she relaxed in his grip. She waited, blinking some more. The alley cleared a bit. He smiled. She seemed a little more calm.   
  
Why isn't he doing anything? she thought. She was less afraid than she had been a minute ago. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she said, what do you want?  
  
Only, due to his suffocating hand, it hadn't come out like that.  
  
Say that again? he asked gently, pulling his fingers away from her lips.  
  
she choked back a sob, what do you want?  
  
he said. He hugged her again. She waited. She was so warm, so wonderfully warm and alive. Minutes passed; she waited. He gently turned her so she faced him. It was so dark, she only saw the palest features of his countenance. She thought she saw him smile. He put his hand to the side of her face and held her close, a romantic gesture in any other situation. he said gently. What's your name?  
  
she blinked. Hot tears ran down her cheeks to his fingertips. She felt him shifting his feet.  
  
Don't cry, Clairabelle, he said, flicking the tears off his hand. She shook a little. He lightly traced a soothing pattern over her face, a sensual touch. Shh... calm. Breathe. Don't cry, his words delicate.  
  
He bent slightly. The movement shattered her tranquillity. She screamed, fearful of rape, pain, and death. Shh! You were doing so well, he said, a little louder than before.   
  
With the twist of a corkscrew, her scream fell silent. She gasped, blood gushing from her torn throat. It bubbled up between her teeth.   
  
he said softly. Now things will be quieter. He reached up and shoved a flashlight into the supports for the cloth overhang. It shone down over Clairabelle, who had dropped to the ground. She lay on her back, hands desperately trying to push the pieces of her throat together.   
  
Tears, so many tears. Through them she saw a thin, black shape bend over her. The guy looked somewhat sad, watching her cry. He watched for a little while, taking in her slow death. At one point he wiped a tear off her cheek and kissed it. he said gently, licking the salty water from his lips.  
  
Glancing at his watch, he jumped. Hmm, I have to get back soon. He picked up a knife. So sorry, my dear, but you have to be alive for this to count. Oh, wait, a during picture!  
  
Flash! Clairabelle was blind again, and forevermore.  
  
Working quickly, he cut three quarters of a square from her dress and flesh, over her abdomen. Pulling back the flap of skin, he bit his lower lip. He had to be very, very careful. Without gloves, he shoved his hands into her gut and felt around. He smiled. Still warm and pulsing, her organs shone in the light. Are you dead yet? he said, glancing up. Her eyes were glazed over. He secretly hoped she was. This seemed like it would be quite painful, and she couldn't control her pain. Lets see. Liver, he moved his hand to the right, stomach, jejunum, pancreas... here it is! Grasping a small knife carefully, so it wouldn't slip, he cut out her spleen. It's really a pity, he said to her cooling face, that I had to waste so much of you on this. I mean, if it had been just one kidney, you could live with the other, and I wouldn't've had to kill you. But life is hard without a spleen, and since you're dead now, you don't need yours anymore. He went through his logic slowly and softly, smiling at the memory of her body pressed against his. The spleen was zipped into a baggy. Bloody on the outside from his hands, he cradled it to his face. Still warm, he said happily. Oops, I almost forgot! After picture!  
  
Click.  
  
***  
  
  



	2. Boring

This story takes place after issue 7, just so you know.  
  
***  
  
Boring  
  
Johnny yawned. Boring. Bored.   
  
You know, said Meat, holding out a hand, you do have the option of leaving the place.  
  
Nny leaned back on the couch, staring through the glowing monitor. For what purpose?  
  
Learning! Experience! Pleasure! Dear, fat god in heaven, get the hell out of the house. The little hallucination put down his burger and sat on the arm of the couch.  
  
You're definitely not as elegant as the other guys, said Nny lazily.   
  
I've noticed elegance does nothing for my arguments, so why waste time constructing it? Meat swung his legs.   
  
Nny sighed. he said, twisting around to face the thing, I was sort of toying with the idea of getting some paint.  
  
Meat waved his arms around ecstatically. Do something with that brain of yours. Wait a minute, he narrowed his piggy eyes. You're lying! You should know you can't lie to me! I am you.  
  
Grr. Nny had been hoping he could shut it up. he said, sitting up properly. Decontamination of the mind is an admirable, though slow process.  
  
You're bored, said Meat flatly.  
  
But I'm not feeling bored, said Nny, pointing at him. I don't feel a thing.  
  
You feel bored. Meat was very unamused.  
  
No I don- damnit! Shut up. Nny jumped off the couch. This is a little harder than I thought it would be! Trying to eliminate you, or emotion, or whatever it all is, it's taking a little longer than I thought it would!  
  
Uh oh, you're angry. Earth to Johnny, that's an emotion, Meat grinned widely.  
  
Nny stomped off to the kitchen. Stupid icon of gluttony, he muttered. He rifled through the fridge. Nothing. He opened the freezer. One hunk of cheese sat forlornly inside. Stupid cheese. What are you doing in here?  
  
The vagrant put it there before you killed him, called Meat.  
  
Oh yeah... Nny grinned, gnawing on the frozen edge of it. It was mozzarella. He walked back into the tv room.   
  
So, what is it? Meat pointed to the white cube of dairy substance.  
  
  
  
Are you sure?  
  
Nny squinted one eye at him.  
  
How do you know? said Meat.  
  
It tastes like it, Nny groaned, biting at the frozen cheese.  
  
Does it really? The tone of his voice mystified Nny. He turned his head. He took a small bite.  
  
  
  
Meat stared at him expectantly. At last he said, how can you be sure of anything without your senses? Now that you know all you see is real.  
  
Nny paused. He took another bite. It definitely had no taste at all. He had been so sure it was mozzarella. I'll heat it up a bit, he said. Maybe the flavor is frozen, or something.  
  
Two minutes later his face dropped. I don't taste anything, he said, staring at the melting cheese in his hands.  
  
Now, that's not a big deal, said Meat sarcastically. You don't need to taste things, or feel things-  
  
Nny gasped. The floor suddenly was no longer pushing up against him. His clothes no longer clung to him. He saw them, but he couldn't feel them. Nny ran his fingernails down his arm. No feeling.  
  
What are you doing? he asked sharply. Nny watched the cheese fall from his hand, as he hadn't known that he wasn't holding it tightly enough.  
  
Senses are the fodder of feelings as well as intelligent observation, said Meat. They may seem automatic and logical, but how many times have you seen something you wanted to see? All the impulses, all the facts, they join together with your feeling side and form perception. You need them, Nny.   
  
Johnny stood silently until the floor came back. Suddenly, he felt his heart racing inside his chest. He felt the rhythm of his breathing. He looked down. I didn't know I'd miss that, he said uncertainly.   
  
Meat grinned. he said diplomatically, I'm not saying you need to go out and spread joy and whatnot about the region, but for deity's sake, feel something. Grow into something better than what you were. You can even choose what you want to feel, sometimes. So get out. Out!   
  
How did you do that? Nny ran his fingers down his arm, the same as he did before. Red lines formed, causing a tiny pain.  
  
Meat waved a hand. I cut you off, just like how you think you want to be. But come, who really wishes to be utterly cold? What sort of life is that of a statue?  
  
Nny groaned. Don't get all melodramatic, but he didn't suppress an infinitesimal grin.  
  
There! Ha! Meat did a celebratory jig. Humor is good. Now, skat!  
  
Okay, okay. I need some food, anyway.  
  
***  
  
You hugged her, didn't you? Her eyes were sharp with accusation and disgust.  
  
I had to! She was so warm and alive. Don't you miss that? The three wet photographs of Clairabelle hung on a clothesline, surrounded by hundreds of others. Cut didn't dare look at them, though he wanted to.  
  
No! And you shouldn't, either! the Iron Bitch smashed him across the face with her fist. You don't feel that! You don't feel that! she screamed.  
  
Cut felt the rips in his flesh with his fingers. Yeah, I'm trying not to, he said darkly. He knew trickles of blood were running down his cheeks, though he couldn't feel them.  
  
Just concentrate, the Iron Bitch said, a little less loud than before. Her icy glare bored into Cut, and he pushed the pain away. Feel nothing yet?  
  
he said stonily.  
  
Prove it.  
  
Without wincing, Cut shoved his index finger into one of the small holes in his face.  
  
Good, here, blotting his face with disinfectant, the Iron Bitch taped a large piece of gauze over the wound. Slender said you've been lapsing. Too much fucking tv, the Iron Bitch ran her finger down the bridge of his nose, the only physical sign of affection allowed. He didn't dare return the gesture. Instead, he smiled carefully. Now, tell me why you held her. Why did you hold her?  
  
Cut forced himself not to feel fear, as he wasn't allowed to. But he did know that to reply untruthfully would be very bad. It was strange, having the warning of fear without the feeling. It was inexplicable, as all his composted feelings were.  
  
Keeping his voice as monotonous as possible, he said, she was so beautiful. I know, I'm not allowed to think that.  
  
To think what? the Iron Bitch only asked so that he could reinforce the rule for himself.  
  
To think that someone is attractive. They are all the same, they are equal in their bland humanity. The Iron Bitch nodded. He continued. Well, wrongly, I thought she was beautiful, and I just wanted to touch her, to feel warm again. Her body... I felt that she was mine. I wanted her, to keep.  
  
Passion and lust are evil, disgusting feelings, said the Iron Bitch. They are natural, and thus must be avoided. They will bring you nothing of value! Nothing! She punched him again, and this time his face didn't turn with the force of the blow, as it had before. This time he wasn't holding back stinging tears. This time he did nothing.  
  
Very disgusting, he repeated.   
  
The Iron Bitch readjusted the gauze to cover the new blood rivulets. It is harder to suppress certain things, she said coldly, than others. You will be broken, don't worry. We will test you later, as I highly doubt you could pass now. Go to the Fortress with Slender and tell him I want fresh salad tonight.  
  
Cut nodded respectfully and left.  
  
The Iron Bitch followed him with joyless eyes. Picking up her scalpel, she resumed her task of cutting the Rossetta Stone's inscription, in its entirety, into her legs.   
  
***  
  
The Rossetta Stone is neat. This, and other Jhonen fanfiction can be found on Over The Stars. I brought this fic here cuz I was hoping for some reviews. *bambi-in-the-headlights-look* Please?


	3. Infamous Food Fortress

This food store is based off a real one near my house. It's so big, there really are shuttles to take you from the parking lot to the store itself. I don't like that particular store. I go to a smaller one.   
  
***  
  
Infamous Food Fortress  
  
The violins soared and dived, until Nny hit the power button and shut the car off. he said to no one. The Infamous Food Fortress.   
  
Nny squinted. In the distance, the giant supermarket, a new edition to the city, shone in the glory of its own lighting. Nny double checked his lot number, ZZ23, and jumped onto the nearest shuttle. It took him and two other passengers across the vast parking lot to the entrance.  
  
During the ride, Nny carefully watched the other two guys. They sat, expressionless, talking softly to one another. One was skinny, almost as skinny as Nny himself, and had a piece of bloody gauze covering half his face. The other guy was huge, with muscles of disturbing proportion. At the end of the ride, the big guy nodded to Nny, letting him get off first.   
  
mumbled Nny.  
  
You're welcome, said the shuttle driver cheerfully.  
  
No, I meant- eh, never mind. Nny sprinted to the giant automatic doors. They were so wide that Nny ran in like an airplane, with his arms spread out. He stopped short with the memory of Meat swinging his legs. Dropping his arms, he snatched up a basket and headed off to the canned food section.   
  
As it was nearing 1 am, the store was mostly empty. Two for the price of three, he said to himself. That's not too bad. Loading the basket with skettios, he realized he would need a cart to attain the proper amount of processed food. Stay here, he told his basket as he put it down.   
  
Nny turned to the frozen food aisle. He jumped back. Peering around a giant display of paper towels, he remained hidden.  
  
The two guys from the shuttle were standing next to one of the giant freezers lining the wall. A little kid, scared out of his mind, stood trembling under the gripping hands of Big Guy. Skinny Guy had one hand around the mouth of a woman Nny took to be the kid's mom, and his other arm around her waist.  
  
Nny heard Skinny Guy saying to her, we're not going to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you, his tone velvety. Slender, does it look like I want to hurt her?  
  
said Big Guy, his voice tinged with humor.  
  
Slender just needs to borrow your kid for a minute, said Skinny Guy. His voice was soothing and eerily calm.   
  
The woman's eyes widened. She made pitiful noises.   
  
Shh. You see, said Skinny Guy, holding her carefully, but not too close, I finished my task for the night already, but he's got to do his thing. Tonight is spleen night.  
  
said the little boy. He wrung his hands nervously.   
  
Shut up, said Slender. Your mommy won't get hurt if you be quiet.  
  
The little boy made a meep noise and swallowed.  
  
said Skinny Guy gently, just to keep you out of the way, we're going to put you in the freezer. So, tell your kid to stay put. Skinny Guy moved his hand so the woman could talk.  
  
St-tay p-put, honey, she said. Skinny Guy covered her mouth again.  
Slender let go of the kid. Stay there, he ordered gruffly. The kid blinked and stood a little straighter. Where's the fucking tape?  
  
Right here, Skinny Guy pulled duct tape from his pocket awkwardly.  
  
Move yer hand, Cut, said Slender. He began winding tape around the woman's body.  
  
Run Charlie! Run, honey! Get help! Get-ccchhkkktt! Cut sealed her mouth and dove for the kid.  
  
Charlie screamed in terror.   
  
Johnny watched all this silently. It certainly wasn't any of his business what was going on. He considered going down the next aisle to get a cart. He glanced behind him. Nny turned back.  
  
Grinning, Slender slapped tape over the little man's mouth and picked him up.  
  
***  
  
Cold. Nny woke up to the acrid smell of blood. He was sitting next to the woman in the freezer. Over the piles of turkey and ham, he saw Cut and Slender on their knees, surveying something on the floor. The woman turned and implored with her tear-stained eyes. Please help my son, her eyes said.  
  
Nny turned away from her. He forced himself up and looked over the meat. The little kid was dead, cut open, sadly mutilated. The white paper beneath his body puckered with puddles of blood. A strange twitching of Nny's leg muscles pulled him down again. The woman stared at him. Nny shook his head. Her cheeks pulled up and her eyes watered. She hung her head, and tears ran down the plastic covered chicken wings beneath her.  
  
Unexpectedly, she made a muffled scream and thrust her body up. She bashed at everything around her with her shoulders, trying to scream, trying to rip the tape apart.  
  
Nny scooted as far away from her as possible. A tremendous sound came from her when she saw her son. A wail, an inhuman sound burst through the barrier of the tape.   
  
Look, miss, said Cut, stalking up to the freezer, we really don't have a problem with you. Shh. He conked her on the head with a pack of ribs, and she fell.  
  
Nny watched as the two men wrapped the kid in butcher paper and buried him under some meat. That's disgusting, Nny thought. I'm never buying food from here again. Cut spent some time rearranging the packaged foodstuffs into a slightly pleasing pattern. Slender stood silently, rubbing his wrists with disposable alcoholic wipes.   
  
Eventually they walked over to Nny. There he sat, taped and bound, slowly freezing his butt off in a sea of meat. Nny felt anger rise. He glared.  
  
the two guys looked at each other with raised eyebrows, and then back at Nny.   
  
Cut finally spoke, his voice vibrant, we don't need him for anything, do we?  
  
Slender held up a bag with a small, bloody white thing in it. Nope, I'm all set.  
  
But... we can't really let him go, can we? What if that was his wife? Cut seemed worried. I dunno, you've been doing this longer. What should we do?  
  
Slender smiled. Let's take him with us.  
  
Cut smiled, too. He paused. I'm truly sorry if that was your kid, he said. Since neither he nor Slender laughed, Nny took it to be a sincere apology.  
  
Nny shook with the cold. He was quite confused. What the fuck was going on? He thought back. As far as he could tell, he himself had never killed a little kid in front of his mom. Never one to trust his memory, he thought harder, searching for any errant recollection. Nope... he only saw his dear friend Squee. Poor Squee. What if this kid had been like Squee? Not horrible yet? And the woman had seemed okay. Nny was so cold. He wished the two men would hurry the fuck up and get him out of the freezer. Maybe they would just leave him here to a frozen, meaty doom. Nny noticed he was no longer immune to the police, and being killed, and pain in general, now that the doughboys were gone.   
  
Suddenly, he realized he was in a bit of trouble. Luckily, the cold shrouded his eyes before it really sank in.  
  
***  
  
I don't really know how the text will show up on ff.net, but I got kinda lazy and decided not to go through and delete the tabs. (I haven't got Word anyhow- some not always great Mac stuff). Thanks to those of you who are still reading! The most bloody parts are done now. 


	4. The Iron Bitch

The Iron Bitch  
  
Shelves of rolled gauze, and bandages. Gallons of antiseptic. Disposable lancelets and scalpels. Shelves upon shelves upon shelves of medical supplies. Large yellow biohazard barrels beneath them. Hospital?  
  
Cold lights above, chilly air. Cave?  
  
Warehouse?  
  
  
  
Slender peeled a white sticker off the roll and filled it out. Task? Spleen. Who? Outsider- very young male. Completed? Slender shook his head. What day is it? he thought. He glanced at his watch. Oh yeah. He wrote the date and signed his name. Methodically, he put the spleen into a sterile compartment, shut it, and placed the sticker on the outside of the drawer.  
  
Next to him, Cut did the same. Spleen, Outsider, adult female. In went the organ, the plastic drawer slid shut. They pulled off their gloves and put them into a yellow bucket.  
  
They turned around. The Iron Bitch stood behind them, nodding. Now, one of you wake up our friend.  
  
Slender pushed ahead of Cut and stalked over to the thin man chained to a spiked chair. Hey, dumbass, wake up, he said, shaking him none too gently.  
  
The Iron Bitch shook her head. Where you must work on passion, she whispered coldly to Cut, he on anger. Cut bit back a smile. At least Slender wasn't perfect, and the Iron Bitch saw that. He wondered what she had to work on.  
  
I'm not a dumbass, said Nny groggily. He raised his head and took in his surroundings. Every flash he thought he'd seen- the hospital supplies, the cold lights, the cavernous walls- came into sharp focus. Nny inspected the room carefully. He was chained to a chair, a horrible chair. Much like something I'd have, he thought wryly. There were numerous contraptions and machines on his wall of the room. Opposite him was a white wall, with thousands of small plastic shelves. Each had a glistening white label. The wall to his right held the shelves with the hospital supplies and biohazard barrels. The wall to his left was the strangest. It had seven or so stations.' At each station, a podium stood against the wall, with a giant book on it. Above it, mounted into the wall, was a large wheel with a spinner, divided into three equal parts, labeled and Above that was a nameplate. The closest station to him was called Iron Bitch. The spinner rested on Self. Nny couldn't see the book from his angle.  
  
Aside from the bloody contraptions, the only other furniture was a long table with some folding chairs around it. Nothing in the place was beautiful, aside from the floor. It was inlaid with woods and murals. However, no care had been made to keep it from becoming scratched and faded. Nny assumed these people subscribed to a minimalist decor.  
  
As to the people... Slender, of course, stood next to him with a sneer. He wore clean black pants and a sleeveless black shirt. Cut stood at the table, wearing similar clothing. A stunning woman sat on the table next to him. Her long crimson dress had a slit going up to the thigh, and Nny saw hundreds of tiny hieroglyphs freshly cut into her crossed legs. She had beautiful brown hair, falling around her cold, cold eyes. Behind them, a woman in a blue suit was pulling latex gloves on. She, like the other people, ignored Nny. He watched as the woman started cutting into the back of a man lying on the table. The man made no noise, merely blinking as the knife traced out the shape of Mexico in his skin. Every once in a while, the woman blotted the blood away and wiped the knife clean.  
  
What the hell is she doing? asked Nny.   
  
The stunning woman smiled and stood. Her dress clung in a very provocative way, and Cut couldn't keep his eyes off her.  
  
I am the Iron Bitch, she said cooly. She walked up to Nny. And you are?  
  
he squinted at her distrustfully.  
  
the Iron Bitch called. The woman in the blue suit looked up. Please tell Johnny what you are doing.  
  
Sparta put the knife down and smiled at the man. A break, my dear, she said. She walked over, nodding to the Iron Bitch respectfully. A conservatively dressed woman in her mid thirties, Sparta looked as out of place here as anything else did. Nothing seemed to fit. My task tonight, she said, was Mexico. On a Member. We flip the encyclopedia open to a random page, she pointed to the big book on the Iron Bitch's podium as an example, and spin the wheel. Since I got Member, I spun another wheel, and so Grind learns to block physical pain tonight. The man on the table waved.   
  
And he doesn't mind that? asked Nny.  
  
Of course not, said Sparta simply, and she walked back to the table.  
  
You see, Johnny, the Iron Bitch continued, we seek perfection. A perfect, cold intellect.  
  
Me too! Nny said sarcastically. But how the fuck do you achieve that slicing each other up? And killing a little kid, for his fucking spleen! My god, even I wouldn't have done that! What the hell, where am I?  
  
The Iron Bitch smiled coldly. You are in our warehouse, lair, evil plotting den, however you wish to think of it. We strive for cleanliness, hence, she swept her arm towards the wall with the shelves of antiseptic. We strive to be completely without emotion. That includes pain, she jerked her thumb back towards Grind and Sparta, she pointed to Cut, though Nny didn't know why, and anger.   
  
That's... fucking insane, Nny said.  
  
Insanity depends only on the individual's definition, she replied. While we are learning to throw away the cursed emotions, feelings, and desires, we educate ourselves. An extensive library lies in a room below us.   
  
Sounds like a blast, said Nny. He thought of how much TNT it would take to blow the warehouse up. He smiled.  
  
But you enjoy reading, she said, her voice somehow icy and liquid silver at the same time. You enjoy being alone. You are misunderstood. You are unique.  
  
Yeah, unique, just like everyone else, Nny growled.   
  
A fractured Buddha, perhaps, mused the Iron Bitch. You know desire leads to pain. Eliminate desire, eliminate pain. Eliminate emotion. Slender held out his wrist, and the Iron Bitch glanced at the time. Now, Johnny, it is 2 am. We have something we must do. This is our common room. If you don't keep silent, we'll ensure your silence. Do not interrupt our ceremony.  
  
Nny spat.  
  
How original, she said coldly, arching her eyebrows. Slender, the tape. I don't think our guest will grace us with quietude.   
  
Before Nny could protest, Slender roughly shoved a gag of gauze into his mouth and taped over it.   
  
Damnit! This is so fucking stupid. What are these people doing? Nny squirmed in the chair, but the spikes prevented him from any real movement.  
  
Everyone sat at the table except the Iron Bitch. she said, we see the steady climb for all members. Sparta, you came to us a kind and feeling creature. You wouldn't hurt a fly, as they say. Now, look what you're doing! Sparta raised the scalpel in the air, and some blood dripped down her gloved hands. Slender, I was told you managed to not destroy your child victim in anger, but in logical and merciful murder. He nodded. However, Cut, our dear newest member. Tell them what you did.  
  
Cut stood nervously. The Iron Bitch slapped his shoulder. Feel no nervousness, you are among comrades. Stand up straight. Tell them what you did wrong.  
  
He licked his lips and squared his shoulders. I'm still training, as you know, everyone nodded respectfully, and so I shared the spleen task tonight with Slender. I- I found a young woman.  
  
Don't stutter!  
  
I found a young woman, Cut said again, trying to keep his normally soothing voice from shaking. And I thought she was attractive. So I held her. I should have taken her spleen quickly, but I didn't. I reveled in it. I held her, and I thought she was beautiful.  
  
Did you eventually finish your task? the Iron Bitch asked, pulling long rubber gloves on.  
  
he held his hands in fists so they wouldn't shake.   
  
So, why does it matter that you took extra time out to hold this woman? Where was the harm in finding her so attractive?  
  
Cut blinked. It's wrong, he said. I'm not allowed to look at someone and think they're attractive. It's a form of judgment. In taking her spleen, I did not judge her, but carried out my task. I am weaker for thinking about her.  
  
The Iron Bitch smiled coldly. Yes, it is the most common malady among the younger members, is it not? He nodded. The urge, the fire. The passion. Others would say you are not old enough to contain them, but we know you will. You have proven yourself against self misery. Do not let the looks of another destroy all you've worked so hard for. And with that, she peeled off his gauze and slashed his face with a knife.   
  
Choking against the gag, Nny watched. He was torn between believing the woman was right, and knowing that somehow what she did was wrong. Nothing made sense inside of him. Why? he thought. I never thought about what other people felt. I've been straining to get to where these people are, I think. Oh god, I think they're crazy, but I think they're right.  
  
Cut bit his tongue. He couldn't help it, tears streamed down. The Iron Bitch watched him, disgusted. Cut! Stop that immediately. It should bring you no pain. Chance, she held her hand out to a teenage girl, who gave her a cloth, thank you. Roughly, she wiped his face. He squinched up his eyes at the sting of the disinfectant. We believe in you. We know you will triumph over your senses. We know you are strong.  
  
Everyone nodded.  
  
We support each other, said the Iron Bitch. You will thus stay the night with our guest. Answer his questions, as I'm sure he'll have many. Will you be ready tomorrow night for a test?  
  
Cut looked doubtful. I don't know.  
  
You must by then, she said coldly. She handed Cut a lantern. We'll continue our discussion on progress downstairs. With a wave, all the people followed the Iron Bitch.  
  
The lights went out. Sniffing, Cut lit the lantern, and a small circle of pale light enveloped him. He dragged a chair across the floor and sat in front of Johnny. Putting the lantern down, he said, he pointed to the gag, I'm gonna take this out. Don't scream.  
  
Nny scraped his tongue around his mouth once the gauze was gone. He was incredibly thirsty and tired. He shook his head. he said finally, is really weird.  
  
Cut leaned back in his chair, touching his face gingerly. Yeah, I know. His voice was slowly reclaiming its vibrant softness. Was that your kid? A glimmer of remorse shone in Cut's eyes.  
  
  
  
The glimmer was gone, stamped out by relief or emotional cleansing, Nny didn't know. Do you want to kill emotion, Johnny?  
  
Call me Nny, and yes.   
  
Cut repeated. He said it as if he were trying it on in a store.   
  
Can you actually, do you ever actually not feel pain? asked Nny.  
  
Oh, yeah, Cut's eyes lit up. The Iron Bitch is, well, a bitch, but she'll get you there. It's like being cold everywhere, but it doesn't bother you because you don't know you're cold. You only remember being alive and warm when you lose the coldness, when you've broken your concentration. She's been doing it so long that I bet it's second nature, and she doesn't need to think about it.  
  
Nny thought. Do you not feel anything at all? Your clothes? The ground?  
  
Nope, nothing. It's disorienting at the very beginning, you really have to watch what you're doing. Little cuts are easier to forget than the floor beneath you.  
  
I've felt that, said Nny, thinking of Meat's little charade. Er, or rather, not felt it.  
  
Cut peered at him.   
  
Yeah, earlier today. Or yesterday. I'm not sure. Nny felt more tired now. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was saying. He detested sleep, but at the moment, it seemed like a promising luxury.   
  
Honestly, though, Cut whispered. Sometimes I'm not sure if it's worth it. Holding that girl, the feeling, it was- it was better than cold. It was better than being invincible, or not feeling a scalpel in the back of your knee. I mean, there's a certain pride that comes along with seeing something stab into you, but feeling nothing, he said hastily. But she warmed me right up. I didn't realize how cold it was, how cold...  
  
Nny nodded, his eyelids shuddering and straining to stay up.  
  
I think, Cut whispered, barely able to be heard, that humans are meant to feel.  
  
***  
  
As if anyone cares to know, the Iron Bitch is a reoccurring character in my head. Four years ago I called her the Red Lady, a person bent on simply destroying herself and spreading that religion' to others. Not a healthy head demon, I tell ya what.


	5. Spider

Spider  
  
Good afternoon.  
  
Nny woke to the greeting. Chance, the teenage girl, was standing in front of him. he said.  
  
Good afternoon. Do you want some food?  
  
Nny groaned. I can't move.  
  
Yes you can.  
  
He looked down. His arms had been freed from the tape, though he still couldn't leave the chair. Oh. Sure.  
  
She handed him a tray with a sandwich on it and a glass of water.  
  
What do you do? Nny asked.   
  
How do you mean? Her eyes were blue and faded. She seemed tired, but unaware of that fact.  
  
If you don't feel, what do you do all day besides cutting each other up? He chomped into the sandwich. Mmm, turkey.  
  
We read. We learn. We know so much, she said, leaning closer to him.  
  
Nny watched her face. It looked utterly blank. She seemed uninteresting and bland. There was nothing in her, he realized, that anyone could ever hope to connect with. What was the last thing you read? he asked, mouth full.  
  
The Iliad, in the original Greek, she said monotonously.  
  
Was it exciting? Did you like it?  
  
Of course not, she said. It is a fine and admirable piece of work, flawless. But I did not enjoy it. Joy is an emotion.  
  
Then why did you read it, if you didn't enjoy it? I like classical music. It's one of the few reasons to turn a radio on.  
  
Chance took the empty tray back. I read it so that there's something to talk about. We discuss. I learn a lot from the older people here, and she turned her heel.  
  
What's the point of living if you don't enjoy anyth- oh fuck, I sound like Meat, he cut off his own hollering. Grind walked by, a towel around his waist. Hey, you.  
  
The man turned and faced Nny.  
  
What do you like to do?  
  
He tilted his head. I do many things. I don't like, though. He gave a polite smile and kept walking.   
  
My god, you people are boring. Get me out of this chair. Nny scratched at the tape with his nails. It had been sealed with a clear glue.   
  
he looked up. The Iron Bitch smiled wanly. Anger is a struggle, Nny.  
  
He mumbled something intelligible.   
  
Even I can't help but find some amusement in you, she said. She ran her hand through his black hair. You're such a dark person, she whispered coldly, yet you feel too much. Blackness is not sterility, but its own form of emotion.  
  
Don't touch me, Nny snapped, pushing her hand away. His scalp prickled where she'd touched it, as if her icy voice had dripped onto his head. He shivered. Her dress was way too tight. He turned his eyes to the wall with the podiums.  
  
It's a funny way to teach, hypocrisy, she continued. Pull them close, push them away. Let them equate loss with love, destroy the love, and then internalize it all. She shifted her dress so one leg showed through the slit. See this? Twelve hours of work. Tedious. But not painful. He gaped at her leg. It is the Rossetta Stone, a great tablet of knowledge and culture. Now I have it with me forever. The Iron Bitch stepped her high heeled foot onto the chair, between his legs. She leaned close to him. Aren't they beautiful?  
  
Nny wanted to push her leg away, but he was afraid to touch her. To touch her exposed thigh, he just... no. It was disgusting. Some of the little hieroglyphs glittered up at him, still freshly red. They were each perfect, tiny monuments to a civilization thousands of years old. For a second the pure beauty of the cuts and the Iron Bitch's pride coursed through him. He shook, shocked by the sudden emotion. he said, closing his eyes and pushing her foot off the chair. They're beautiful.  
  
When he opened his eyes, she was gone.   
  
What. The. Fuck, he said. The huge room was well lit with annoying, humming lights. I need to get out of here. I don't, I don't... he couldn't even talk anymore. Nothing made any sense to him. What was that bitch's problem? Why were they making him stay here, did they want him to join their little cult? Did he want to join their little cult? The thought of the Iron Bitch hanging on him in her little dress made him shiver. Ick.  
  
Hours passed. Nny tried to spend it in a daze, but couldn't banish the surroundings from his head. Finally he resorted to thinking of things he would do when he got out of the damn chair. First to die, Iron Bitch. Next, Chance. Her blue eyes were dead, anyway, and he was sure they wouldn't actually be able to see the rest of her die. Slender was toast, that stupid, giant bastard. Cut... well. Johnny didn't know about that guy. He'd seemed sort of decent the night before, or really early this morning, or whenever. Johnny couldn't remember, but he thought Cut had told him something really important.   
  
A few more agonizing hours later, all the cult people gathered in the huge room again. Each person stepped up to a podium, flipped the encyclopedia to a random page, and spun the wheel. Cut and Slender got Moon and Self. Slender took out a black marker and put an X through the page. Once we've done a task, there's no need to do it again, he explained. Cut got them both some scalpels and they set to work carving little moons in their feet.  
  
The Iron Bitch got Spider and Outsider.  
  
Fuck, thought Johnny. I'm an outsider. She smiled and walked slowly up to him, twirling a knife in her hands. Where would you like it, Johnny? she said.  
  
Nowhere! Get the fuck away from me, psycho bitch! Nny kicked and screamed, but Slender and another meatbucket stalked over and held him down.   
  
The Iron Bitch walked her first two fingers up Nny's leg. The itsy bitsy spider, she sang softly. Slender chuckled. Nny felt the blood drain from his face.  
  
Don't touch me!   
  
The Iron Bitch nodded, and Nny's arms were restrained. He struggled, trying to pull away from the evil chair without getting closer to the woman. It was impossible. Slender and his companion snickered and backed away.  
  
Don't worry about satisfaction, she said icily, you needn't scream.  
  
Nny twisted that line around his head. What did it mean, exactly? She wanted him to scream, or didn't? He would do whichever she didn't want, if he knew which one it fucking was.  
  
The Iron Bitch kneeled in front of him, her hands resting on his knees. I'll only say this once, she traced the buckles of his boots, if you scream, it'll hurt. If you feel it, it'll hurt. If you think about it, it'll hurt. If you fight it, it'll hurt. If you ignore it, it'll hurt. If you concentrate-  
  
I gotcha, it'll hurt, Nny glared at her, hatred almost blurring his vision.  
  
-against it, it will not hurt, she finished. Find another place for your mind to be. Do not dwell on the pain, and it will not hurt.  
  
Nny pinched his lips together. Do not touch me.  
  
The Iron Bitch surveyed his figure, searching for the best place to dig a spider.  
  
Nny shut his eyes. Voice tight, he said, please. Please do not touch me.  
  
she said again, more coldly than before. Begging is beneath you. You're stronger than a little cut. The Iron Bitch frowned. You have so little to cut.  
  
He tried to move, anything, anywhere. Fucking trapped. Glued to his seat and arms chained. Damnit. Nny could swivel his neck, but nothing more. I hate you, he said finally.  
  
Hate is a cage, she replied. She wiped the back of his right hand with a cloth, her rubbery gloves cold on his skin.   
  
When I get out of here, I will destroy you.  
  
Is that a promise? her eyes glinted. She held the knife up to his face. Do you like this one? I found it on your person.  
  
Nny recognized it. At least he knew it was sharp, and wouldn't prolong any pain with a dull blade. Faintly, he thought, at least he knew where that knife had been.  
  
The Iron Bitch traced the outline of the spider first, only drawing a little blood. Nny bit his lip, watching the crimson shadow. It was an elegant spider, thin and angled. The legs stretched across his hand and curved to the palm beneath. Satisfied with the shape, she dug the knife in. Nny made a little sound, but nothing more. It hurt. Goddamn, it hurt. The alcohol or cleaning fluid or whatever she had used was seeping in, making it sting more. She was methodical and ruthless.   
  
You're smiling, he said, his voice cracking. You aren't allowed to enjoy this.  
  
The Iron Bitch glanced up. You're right, she said, I'm not. And she smiled a horrible smile, so that Nny wished he hadn't said anything.  
  
When she finished, she wrapped his hand carefully. Very good, she said, running her finger down his nose. It left a stripe of blood on his face. He tried to bite her hand, but she pulled it away. The Iron Bitch put his knife in one of the plastic containers in the wall, and filled out a sticker.   
  
Nny fumed inside. There was nothing he could do. He didn't feel helpless, he just felt very very angry.  
  
***  
  
Grr! Anger! She disfigured him! Grr! ...sorry. Ha ha.


	6. The Test

The Test  
  
Now is your test, my dear, said the Iron Bitch with an icy smile. Cut bit the inside of his mouth. Are you ready?  
  
  
  
Are you prepared, at all? Her eyes narrowed. The other people at the table stared blankly at him.  
  
Cut shifted uncomfortably. He glanced at Nny, who only glared at the Iron Bitch in hatred. No, I am not.  
  
She turned and faced the table. Should he attempt, and the failure will be a lesson? Everyone nodded slowly.  
  
It must be done, said Sparta. Do not fear, Cut. Failing and learning are nearly the same. You will be better off because of it.  
  
At her gentle words he nodded.  
  
The Iron Bitch smiled, and for the first time, it was a genuine evil smile, not the usual cold pull of lips over ivory teeth. She's going to enjoy this, thought Johnny. Whatever she's going to do, she's been looking forward to it. I hate her!  
  
Cut saw the smile.   
  
This is your first test. We already know you're going to fail-  
  
That's it, thought Nny, encourage him.  
  
-but you will be strong. Clear your mind. Breathe. Feel your breathing leave you, and your heartbeat leave you. Feel your life become controlled, utterly, by a single want. You want to be clean.  
  
He'd closed his eyes, but he nodded.  
  
The Iron Bitch waited until he seemed calm. His breaths came, slow and deep, calm and focused. How do you feel?  
  
Empty. Enlightened. Cold, he said monotonously.  
  
Very good. Open your eyes.  
  
He did. They seemed unfocused, unlike the rest of his body.  
  
The Iron Bitch held out her arms. Come here, she said. Nny's jaw almost dropped. Her voice was without a shard of ice. It was warm and loving. It was... no. Couldn't be.  
  
Cut obeyed, walking slowly to her. She placed his hands on her waist. How do you feel?  
  
His eye muscles twitched. Slightly compromised.  
  
she said. He nodded. What do you want?  
  
To be... clean. Nny saw his fingers dig into the Iron Bitch's sides.  
  
She either ignored it, or didn't feel it. the word came out lush and slightly risqué. The Iron Bitch slowly ran her hands up his arms. She completely transformed, exuding an exciting tenderness Nny could taste from where he sat. Her face brightened from within, giving her skin a glowing, honeyed hue. Her eyes softened and sparkled. Cut breathed in sharply as she touched his face. Tilting her head, she whispered, how do you feel?  
  
I dunno. Nny could see he was afraid to tell the truth. She stroked his face slowly, watching him. You're so beautiful, he said.  
  
Gag, thought Nny.  
  
What do you want? she asked, her soft lips millimeters from his. He breathed heavily, shaking all over.  
  
he said, and kissed her fiercely. He tightened his arms around her. Sparta gasped, and even Chance's eyes cracked open a bit wider.  
Holy shit, he's dead, thought Nny.  
  
As he watched, all the warmth and life dove back into the Iron Bitch. Her eyes froze over, widened, and she ripped him away from her.  
  
she screamed. All her evilness was restored. The Iron Bitch's eyes flashed their horrible coldness.  
  
No! I need you! Cut cried.  
  
she kicked him, and he went down. She kicked him over and over, until he clung to her long legs, sobbing. Slender tossed her a baseball bat, and the Iron Bitch smashed him over the head. Failure! You have failed! Your feelings are vile and corrupted! They are wrong. You have failed. It is your fault alone you feel this pain!  
  
For fuck's sake! screamed Johnny. You're going to kill him!  
  
The Iron Bitch ignored him. The bat froze in midair. What do you feel? she demanded.  
  
Cut sobbed. He wiped his face repeatedly with the back of his hand.   
  
And what do you want?  
  
He paused. Carefully he looked up, bruises forming over recent cuts. To get away from you.  
  
The Iron Bitch looked down at him in disbelief.  
  
I said, Cut stood up and grabbed the bat from her, to get away from you. His sonorous, velvet voice rose. You are a fucking psychotic bitch! All your training, all your intelligence, that's real. But the shit you pull? These tests? He raged, his eyes sparking. The Iron Bitch backed away a little. What the hell is the point of testing a student who isn't ready? To make him hate you? Good fucking idea! The bat swung down and made a horrible cracking noise upon impact with her skull.  
  
Everyone at the table stood up.  
  
Don't you fuckers move! screamed Cut wildly, or she dies. He kicked her limp form to the floor. After he was sure no one would disobey, he ran backwards to where Nny sat. Get up, Johnny, he said, cutting the restraints and prying the glue apart with a knife he pulled from his belt. Get up, get up.  
  
I'm up. Johnny stretched his arms and grinned.   
  
***  
  
Where the hell have you been?!  
  
Shut up, Meat, Nny panted. He'd run all the way back to the house.  
What happened to your hand? Meat asked, jumping off the couch towards Nny. Is that yours? He pointed to Nny's shirt, which had way too much blood on it to have come from one person. It squelched in his shoes, tracking his path in crimson.  
  
Johnny sank to the floor, hyperventilating. Iron Bitch... spider... he could barely talk. The stench of the shirt was overwhelming, and it stuck to him, slowly congealing. He peeled it off and threw it out a broken window. He coughed, trying to undo the buckles of his boots.  
  
What? What the hell? Keep yer clothes on! Meat implored.  
  
Nny grabbed the little chubby thing and shook him like the maniac he was. These crazy fucks... no emotion... crazy- he gasped, his eyes wide and augmented by streaks of blood.   
  
Woah, put me down! Meat shouted. Nny did. Now, just calm down. Breathe. Relax. Take a bath.  
  
No way! screamed Nny, throwing himself from the floor. Exuberant, he kicked off the soggy boots and put on his favorite cd. There's no way I'm sitting down for a second! He spun a dial on the cd player.   
  
Meat covered his ears with his hands. It's too loud! What?  
  
The house shook. Violins and cellos roared through the foundation under a steady tide of booming drums. Nny danced and laughed all night long until, exhausted and happy, he dropped straight to the floor. He didn't wake up for three days.   
  
***  
  
I think I'd celebrate getting away by blasting music and dancing all night, too. Thanks for reading!   
  
Reviewwwwwwwthisisasubliminalmessageyoudon'treallyseeitwwwwwwww   



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